You'll Danse To Anything
by XelixAhture
Summary: To him, she's always been more than just a hero. She's his angel. Spoilers for Blind Betrayal. Rated M for sexual content. Danse/F!SS


**Spoilers if you haven't completed Blind Betrayal.**

* * *

She walked in. He had almost been expecting her.

She wore leather armor that clung to her hips as she moved.

She had taken out the security with her usual ease.

"I knew he would send someone..." He murmured, his eyes not looking up from their spot on the floor. "I just hoped it wouldn't have been you."

There was a long, painful silence.

Then a strange thud and he jerked his gaze towards her where she had dropped her gun. Her jaw was set. Her eyes burning with determination and her mouth formed a hard line.

Her steps as she approached him were measured and authoritative. Her chin was held high. Maybe it would be fitting if she was the one who would kill him.

She stopped, the sound of her footsteps no longer present in the deathly silent room.

Her eyes no longer looked angry, but they still burned with something.

Swinging her hips easily, she sat beside him and stared ahead of her.

She didn't say anything, just reached over and clutched his hand. Then met his eyes coldly.

He almost shuddered at her touch, her hand warm in his. "It's okay," He assured her. "I'm ready to accept my fate. I know what I am."

Her eyes narrowed into dangerous slits and squeezed his hand with a vice grip. "No." Her voice was barely a whisper.

"What do you mean?" He swallowed nervously. She had never been the type to show much emotion. She had only maintained a professional relationship with him and had been eternally aloof, despite her bright and cheery personality around everyone else. Even that ghoul mayor.

"I'm not going to kill you." Her chin jerked up slightly, defiantly, daring him to argue.

"I..." He swallowed, barely able to hold her gaze. He looked away and at the floor. "I have to be the example. Not the exception. Synths can't exist."

Her other hand gripped his chin firmly and jerked his face to meet her gaze again. "The institute has done awful things. They took my son's entire life away from me and didn't even take me with."

Her voice cracked and he wondered how long she'd bottled up those emotions. He vaguely recalled her cold voice as she told the Elder what she had encountered in the institute. Her face had been blank and her voice had been a low, droning monotone. She hadn't even shown emotion as she described the trick that had been played on her when she had found the young synth boy who had been made to look like her son. The one they'd made to trick her into thinking she could be with her child again. She'd refused to discuss it further whenever Danse tried to bring it up.

"They live in comfort, doing whatever they want to whomever they want." Her body shuddered and shook for the briefest of seconds before she looked away, swallowed, took a deep breath and smoothed her features. She blinked hard once, as if blinking back tears and met his gaze again. Her jaw was set in determination and her voice was stronger this time. "They kill people and replace them, with no regard for how that might affect anyone, or what fear the original might feel as they're being killed or captured or whatever. They play with life as if it's a toy and they have to be stopped. What they do... What they did to you? That wasn't your fault. You didn't ask to be made. You didn't ask for any of this. You've only tried to live your life. Just as I would have. You've taught me so much. And I'm _not_ going to lose you."

He was paralyzed. There was so much anger in her voice. Did she really mean it? He stared at her for a moment longer, feeling his heart pound in his chest painfully. He still felt human...

He found himself nodding slowly and her face relaxed and her grip on his hand loosened.

"Okay," She whispered, then smiled gently, relief glinting in her eyes. "Okay."

Without thinking, he pulled her into a tight hug.

His lips accidentally brushed her neck slightly and she shivered at the warm breath she felt.

He froze as she shook with shallow, rapid breaths. Had he found some sensitive spot by mistake? He blushed furiously and let her go immediately.

Her face was equally red.

"I'm sorry." The words spilled out of his mouth.

"I-it's okay," She murmured, a sheepish smile on her face. "D-don't worry about it." Her fingers brushed lightly at the spot on her neck, then she clenched her fists in her lap once and stood up, leaning down to give Danse another quick hug. "Let's go." She smiled.

He nodded, his face still red.

* * *

Being without the Brotherhood was painful for him. He had done so much for them because he believed in what they were doing and now he couldn't fight with them. He couldn't live his life with the same purpose anymore.

He knew that Maxson would be furious. He was right.

But he had watched as she stood up to Maxson and flat out refused to kill Danse, despite the threats of the Elder.

The same emotionless cold had crept into her voice, but there was a biting edge of determination.

She had taken several steps forward and stood in between Maxson and Danse, her small frame standing rigid and her hands balled into fists at her sides.

Finally, the Elder had backed down. He was pissed at the Knight, this Danse could tell. But he still valued her, even if he no longer valued Danse.

His mind snapped back to the present as there was a bark from Dogmeat.

They had arrived back in sanctuary.

She barely greeted anyone, her voice weary and tired. She had gone back to the Prydwyn and had then returned immediately to get him and head home. She hadn't wanted to leave him there alone.

He was grateful. He didn't realize that he hadn't wanted to be alone until she had returned, stepping out of the elevator like an angel. His own, personal, angel.

"You alright kid?" Hancock asked as he passed the pair in the street.

She nodded and smiled faintly and the ghoul watched them suspiciously.

Danse didn't say anything this time as he passed. Should he still hate ghouls?

"What'd you do, tin can?" Rasped the familiar voice.

Maybe he should still hate ghouls.

"John," she murmured, "He didn't do anything. It's alright. He's..." Her eyes flicked to Danse's. "He's staying here now."

Hancock eyed Danse. "You look like a lost puppy, y'know." Hancock's eyes drifted back to the woman standing next to Danse. "You're eyeing her like she's a god. I'd watch out, doll. I think you have an admirer."

"Knock it off," She murmured, blushing slightly. "Come on, Danse."

He followed obediently, ignoring the chuckling coming from the ghoul.

* * *

There was no where available for him to stay currently, so she let him stay in her house.

The couch smelled a little dusty and it was hard for him to sleep.

After a few hours of tossing and turning, he heard the door to her room creak open and the sound of her bare feet as she padded down the dark hallway.

He rolled onto his back so he could see her as she passed. She was only dressed in a thin nightgown.

"Still awake?" She whispered.

"It's kind of hard to sleep," He rumbled.

"I'm sorry. You and I could trade if the couch isn't comfortable enough for you..."

"No," He sighed. "It's not that. Just... thinking."

"Want some water?" She asked as she moved towards the kitchen.

"Sure," He replied, sitting up on the couch, adjusting his t-shirt and boxers that he'd worn to bed.

She moved to sit beside him and placed a bottle on the table in front of him. Her bare leg rested close enough to his for him to feel her warmth and he tried to push the thought from his mind. She took a sip of her water and leaned back, the fabric of her nightgown rising up slightly. He watched, fascinated, as her legs rose to delicately rest on the table.

He'd never seen her bare legs before.

He was about to ask her why she couldn't sleep, but when his eyes met hers, he realized she was watching him intently.

He froze, eyes locked on hers. "Is something the matter?" He murmured.

She smiled faintly in response. "I've only ever seen you in armor. Be it power armor or leather armor... It's... different."

He chuckled and awkwardly took a sip of his water, nervous at her closeness.

The silence between them was thick and he kept trying to not stare at the delicate lines of her legs.

Then she set down her water and moved back into a normal sitting position, placing her feet on the floor once more. "Danse," Her voice was soft and sent butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

"Yes?" He replied, nervously.

"I'm glad you're here."

He stared at her face again. Then his eyes drifted lower involuntarily. He couldn't help but to notice that her nipples were hard and visible through the thin, silky material of her clothes. He realized, with a shiver, that it was actually kind of cold. He tried to jerk his gaze back up to her face immediately, but she had caught him looking.

A deep blush crossed over her face, visible in the moonlight that was shining through the windows.

He felt his own face redden. "I'm sorry," He said automatically. "I-"

He was cut off by a sudden movement from her.

She pressed her palms to his shoulders and forced him against the couch back. And the next thing he knew, she had straddled him, her lips parted slightly and a hungry look on her face.

Her hands were shaking slightly. "Danse..." She whispered.

He grabbed her waist with one hand and a fistful of her hair in the other and pulled her to him.

Her body was soft. So soft.

His heart ached as she moaned lightly against his lips. He gripped her tighter.

Then an idea struck him. He pulled her back slightly and moved his lips to her neck, brushing them lightly against her skin and letting warm breath move over her flesh.

She roughly sucked in a breath, hands gripping his shoulders and her legs squeezing his hips.

"We... We don't have to do this... if you don't want to," He murmured, pressing his cheek to her neck and enjoying the feeling of her body against him. "After all... I'm not even human... I'm..."

Her hands fisted roughly in his hair and she bucked her hips against him, silencing him instantly as he felt her heat burning against his own. "I don't care." She breathed in his ear. "You're more human than most people I've ever met. And... you're... you."

He slid one hand down to squeeze her ass appreciatively and nipped lightly at her neck, causing her to moan again. "I never want to let you go," He murmured, kissing his way up her neck and loving the way she was shuddering in his arms. He didn't know what he'd done to deserve her.

He picked her up suddenly and placed her back down on the couch, suspending himself above her with his arms on either side of her head. He looked down at her, studying her face, admiring the way her hair billowed out around her, like she really was an angel.

"...sir?" She whispered, concern creeping into her voice.

And just like that... He hadn't expected it. She had always called him that before to be professional, but to hear it now... It sent a jolt through him and his breathing sped up. He tore off his shirt and roughly kissed her, sliding his hands up the material of her night gown and roughly grabbing at her breasts.

He moved his mouth back to her neck and bit and sucked there, earning a loud, low groan directly into his ear.

Her back arched slightly and her body pressed against his. Her fingers were desperately moving against his bare chest now, feeling the soft hairs on his chest and stomach until her fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxers and she began to tug.

He pulled back and took them off completely, noticing that she had lifted her nightgown over her head and discarded it on the floor.

She laid back down for him and he moved between her thighs. The thin material of her panties was the only thing that separated them now.

He took a nipple into his mouth and ran one hand down her hip, pushing the material of her underwear out of the way so he could slip a finger in.

A strangled sound escaped from her throat and she gripped the arm of the couch tightly, above her head.

He noticed she was biting her lip, her face looking so fragile. She looked so delicate and feminine and _perfect._

He moved back away and tugged her underwear down, dropping them on the floor and placing his hands on her knees and spreading them open.

She looked up at him with wide, doe-like eyes.

He plunged into her.

She gritted her teeth and squished her eyes shut, hands clawing at the worn fabric of the couch, her arms still above her head.

He sucked in a shuddering breath, feeling how soft and warm she was. He pulled back an inch and thrust back in.

She let out a gasp.

He took several more gulps of air and began thrusting into her at a steady rate, watching as her body moved forward and back with every jerk of his hips.

Her head tilted back and he felt her body start to shudder and he picked up his pace, gripping her hip with one hand and curling his arm under her and gripping her shoulder with his other hand. He bucked against her roughly, feeling himself slide all the way in.

She was moaning loudly now, crying out his name.

He didn't care if anyone else heard them.

He pressed his lips to her neck and sucked at her skin. Suddenly he felt her hips jerk roughly and her moans rose to high-pitched, tiny whimpers.

He felt her pulsing against his cock inside her and he groaned.

He jerked one of her thighs tighter around him and fucked her like he would never stop.

She raised her hands to brush lovingly against his shoulders, her palms calloused, but still comforting.

He came with a growl, his forehead pressed into her shoulder and his thrusts slowing as the pleasure overwhelmed him.

They lay there panting, holding each other.

The institute had never given him memories of family or friends or anyone important. He hand't known what it might feel like to care about someone this much, but he knew that it couldn't be just programming that made him say the words, "I love you."

She sighed. "I love you too, Danse."

* * *

The pair were rarely apart. They always moved together. No one understood their odd relationship, but the two seemed to keep each other going.

It was obvious that it was only for her sake that Danse stopped speaking poorly of ghouls and synths, at least openly, but no one really minded.

The Sole Survivor was happier and it had seemed that someone had broken through her cold barrier and false cheerfulness.

And eventually when she took down the Institute, everyone began regarding her as a hero.

But everyone knew, that to Danse, she was more than just a hero. She was an angel and his only purpose to keep going.


End file.
